Tower Beach

I was watching the lake again this morning from the bus. She was rumbling up a storm. I watched as the waves crashed the beach and thought "Those would be PERFECT for body surfing" and then I remembered...

My mom used to take us to the beach. Summers in the days before our move to Glenview, we didn't have a pool, and so on those sweltering days we'd come inside to get some relief from the heat. If we opened the refrigerator and saw the big pitcher filled with Kool Aid... we knew. We were going to the beach.

We'd all pile into mom's 1979 Camaro Rally Sport (complete with T-tops and a power booster to make the music LOUD), armed with blankets, towels, The Kool Aid, sandwiches and my mom's beat box. We'd start the cruise to the beach.

"Are we there yet?"
"Do you see the Tower yet?"
"No."
"Are we there yet?"
"Do you see the Tower yet?"
"YES!!!"

Tower Beach. This was not Gilson Park where the rest of the lemmings of the Northshore beached. This beach, while public, was hidden behind a wall of woods and a windey path that led you down to the lake. This was not a crowded beach. It was ours.

My two brothers and I would take off running towards the water right away. And it was ALWAYS freezing. But what was a little cold water compared to a 7 year olds desire...no, NEED to swim??? I'd jump right in. My brothers....well, they began to say I was cold blooded because of my blatant disregard for the 65 degree water.

"You get USED to it!"

In the end, they'd get in. My little brother with his white blond hair...barely 3 in his little water wings and a t shirt. My mother had accidentally let him get a little burnt the last time, so it was tshirts from then on.

The rest of the day was spent cavorting on the beach...digging holes...seeing how long it would take to hit water...building sand castles (yes, sometimes the lesser Star Wars figures made it to the beach with us)..eating the sandwiches mom made that always managed to get sand in 'em. My mom made the BEST kool aid.

Sometimes we'd go exploring in that wall of woods. There were paths built on the dunes. I remember it being very quiet. Sun filtering through the trees... looking back on it it really was a magical place.

Then the sun would start getting low and it'd be time to pack up the car again and head home. The black vinyl seats in the Camaro imposible to sit on. Our skin tight from sand and lake water and sun.

"Hose off before you get in the house".

But sometimes, the trip wasn't done yet. Every once in a while with the radio blaring and the T Tops off Mom would turn to us with a grin..

"You wanna take the ravines home?"

Oh yeah... we'd veer off the main drag and drive up into some of the twistiest-turniest roads you've ever seen, and although we were probably only doing about 20, in that car it felt like we were careening towards certain death. Fast Cars and Rock and Roll. So cool. I remember when songs I liked came on and I'd pray that we wouldn't get home until I heard the whole thing...

Home...there'd be some song on the radio and Mom would pull into the garage and say

"Wait...let's wait for the end of this song."

And then we'd go hose off, dry off, go inside and get ready for dinner.

God those were some good days...